Hels's Gauntlet [Forbidden Legacy 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (23 page)

The confrontation took less than ten seconds, and they kept moving, Helcyon one step ahead of Jacob.

“That guy was human.”

“I know.” The Danae took her victims from wherever she could harvest them. He didn’t doubt there would be Wizards in the same condition somewhere.
But not for long.
“They will be free when she is dead. The liege bonds she twisted to capture them will snap, and true death will claim them.”

“Like what happened at the Council meeting when Cassie and Dalton shut that gate?” The corridor curved and doubled back, and they went left at the next intersection.

“Exactly.”

“So the Danae did attack us?”

“Of course she did. Echyo was the distraction. By sending him, she absolved herself of her own crime.” He suspected, but could not accuse. Not when the oath he swore to her as an infant remained unbreakable. A simple Elf couldn’t just shatter a blood oath.

But he was no longer just a member of her guard or the rebellious paramour of her heir. He was a Lord, and a Lord could call due on the trust exchanged. As he was sworn to her, so she was to him. She broke the faith. His oath no longer held him in its sway.

He couldn’t wait to deliver that message to her.

A group of five drones rushed toward them. As one, he and Jacob stepped into the battle. Neither second guessed the other. He knew when Jacob would move, Jacob knew where he would strike. The coordinated effort left their opposition in a heap of body parts.

“You think she knows we’re coming?” Jacob’s normally taciturn expression seemed downright gleeful. He swung the club like a bat, loosening his arms up after every fight. Blood and black viscous fluids coated the wood.

“I should think so.” Helcyon liked this side of Jacob. The man really did need to smile more often. He liked the gentler side that appeared when Cassandra was present, but even the remote arm’s length he kept from Helcyon then was absent.

The corridors continued to curve and double back, but Helcyon always chose left, and when the steps appeared, they left a trail of twenty or more bodies behind them. Weak sunlight welcomed them at the top of the steps, the sun’s brightness increasing as Helcyon stepped free from the earthen prison.

The Danae stood next to her marble bench. Once again, she appeared as a slip of a girl. Her silky yellow shift left one shoulder bare, and her cascade of blonde locks flowed in the breeze. Her multicolored eyes glimmered with suppressed magic and other emotions that Helcyon didn’t bother to ferret out.

Surprisingly—or perhaps not so much—she waited for them alone.

“Bright the day, Lord Helcyon. I see you have finally found a pet, again. What an ingenuous way for you to extinguish your competition for my daughter’s daughter’s daughter’s child.”

The thinly veiled attempt to wedge dissension between them was as transparent as it was pathetic. He would not play her game. He only hoped Jacob understood the information he shared, opening his mind fully to the Wizard.

“Oathbreaker, I name you, Your Majesty, for the promises you did not keep.”

The Queen froze at the icy declaration, and she looked around the empty field. Not even the wind disturbed the grass.

“Oathbreaker, I name you, bitch, for the black deeds you did reap.” The breeze hushed, as though holding its breath. Power surged between Wizard and Lord, a ring of it rotating in the space and growing with each revolution.

The Danae smiled, a brittle, uneven curl of her lips. “You are but two, and oathbreaking requires three.”

“Oathbreaker, I name you,” Leitha edged into the space on the far side of Helcyon, brown fur gleaming in the ever-brightening sunshine, revealing ruddy reds and tawny golds. Her nose twitched as she lifted her chin and placed her staff against the ground. In the most ancient of times, the Brownies traveled everywhere, crossing between the boundaries of opposing Lords without molestation, for they carried life and healing in their paws and none would disturb them.

None, save for the Danae, who left them to rot in their villages without a thought for how the decline in Underhill would affect them.

“Oathbreaker, I name you, for failure in your duty and all your victims who weep.”

The Danae straightened, her placid expression washing away in a flush of rage. “You have not the power, ‘my lord!’ I am the Danae, the Queen, and the world beyond is beginning to worship me. I have thousands of souls to call upon, and what do you have?” Ugliness twisted her features, fraying the ragged ends of her false youth. Madness burned in her gaze, and in the well of his soul, Helcyon mourned the promise the Danae’s infant birth gave to the world.

A promise that became as wicked as the hate she nursed in her breast. The hate she wanted to feed into Cassandra’s soul, to turn her, and take her power for her own.

“Oathbreaker, you have been named thrice, by those who wield Sun, Sword, and Succor. Oathbreaker, we call you and deny all promises made to you. Oathbreaker, we believe, absolving all oaths in your name. Oathbreaker, in deed, in thought, in spirit, and in hate.” The circle of power rotating between them grew, stretching out its hungry fingers toward the Danae.

Power fountained from beneath the Queen, and she lashed out, a violent, orange blast that burned through the air toward them like a fireball. Helcyon caught the heat, absorbing it, and balanced the fire in his hand.

He smiled.

“Really, Tabitha? Fire against the Lord of Sword and Sun? You’re slipping.” Dark amusement dripped in the words. Her expression mottled with rage, and she lunged toward them, blades appearing in her hands.

Helcyon tipped his head as he brought his sword up. Was she truly challenging him blade to blade? Pleasure surged through the bond, and he knew the same thought occurred to Jacob.

“Destroy them.” The deposed Queen yelled as she charged. Helcyon met the first swing of one short blade easily, metal sliding off metal, and parried the second blade. He’d trained the Princess Tabitha in the use of the sword. Her overconfidence and temper still seemed to get the best of her.

Nothing moved in the stillness save for the Queen and Helcyon as he engaged in the dance. The hush of swiftly indrawn breath told him when Tabitha realized it as well.

“You are an oathbreaker, Lady Tabitha. The oaths to you are null and void. Even your people know that.” He sidestepped her next lunge and disarmed her of one sword. He flung the short blade away, melting it to slag with a thought.

She spun on her heel, breath heaving her lungs. “They are coming. They worship me. They honor me.”

“Who is coming, m’lady? The creatures you consigned to hellish existence when you let them not pass to the Summerlands?” Leitha leaned on her staff, her expression pitying. “They want you to die. For when you pass from this world, so might they.”

Tabitha screamed and stepped toward the Brownie, but Jacob moved in front of the furred healer, club raised. “Bring it, bitch.” Oh, and how Jacob wanted her to come at him. It would give him license to kill her, a license that Helcyon preferred for himself.

But if the former Danae wanted to dare it, he wouldn’t begrudge his brother the final blow.

The Fae queen hesitated. “You cannot kill me. None are left to take the throne. None can hold together the fabric of Underhill as I have. The Fae will collapse to their wars, destroy all that is above and all that is below. Don’t you understand that, Wizard? I am your only hope.”

“Guess I’m just a hopeless schmuck who likes the hard place a whole lot better than the rock.” Jacob remained unmoved by her plea.

Shock rippled across Tabitha’s face. A spark of pity filled Helcyon’s heart. She did not see the monster she had become. The gift of life converted to the dark promise of destruction. As long as this Danae lived, true peace would never exist.

“We have an heir, Your Majesty,” Leitha interrupted, her own smile mirroring the pity in Helcyon’s soul. “The Lady Cassandra, blessed of Sun, Sword, Wizard, and Wind. You brought her to us, and for that we thank you.”

“Cassie cannot hold our people together. Too many will never follow one polluted by human and Wizarding blood.”

Polluted. Fool.
Cassandra wasn’t polluted, far from it. In fact, she carried the promise that their three races could coexist, blend, and become something greater than the factions they lived in. She was tomorrow.

Tabitha was yesterday.

“You are mistaken, Majesty.” Something in the Brownie’s expression pinged a warning bell in Helcyon’s mind. “It is not Cassandra who will wear that crown, but her daughter, the true Danae, the first true Elf born in five hundred years. A Fae of unspeakable promise and unparalleled beauty in body and soul, Cassandra opened the door to life, and when her daughter ascends the throne, we will all reap that gift.”

Tabitha’s sword point dropped to the earth. “She’s pregnant. She is the one.”

Leitha inclined her head. “She will restore our fertility and gift unto the Wizards fecundity. We are free, Your Majesty…save for one last act.”

The Brownie’s gaze left the fallen queen to meet Helcyon’s. She nodded. The last was the death of the old to herald the arrival of the new. For his daughter to be queen, the throne must be empty.

He did not let himself think, he simply acted, and his sword arced through the air. The rotating circle of power called into being with their declaration of oathbreaker exploded in a shower of sparks. Blood rained down onto the field, and the sun blazed, heating for the first time in centuries, a blazing warmth that mirrored the human world.

Helcyon stared down at the headless body sprawled against the yellow earth. He should feel a deeper sadness for the loss of a female he’d known all of her life, but the sun’s wild heat suffused his body and relief filled his soul.

Hours later, the gathering of solemn Fae observed the burning of the fallen Danae’s body. All of Underhill appeared in some form of their regalia, from the scaly lizards to the furred Brownies to the elaborate Elves. Goblins, fairies, hounds, and even a centaur or two appeared. So many creatures of the Fae, forgotten and banished to borderlands within Underhill, made their way to observe the ritual cleansing, the wrapping in silk, and the pyre of white oak carried from the human world to light the way for the Danae into the Summerlands.

Helcyon watched over the procession, his bronze armor gleaming in the blazing sun. He found no satisfaction in the queen’s death, only a quiet sense of relief and purpose. Jacob and Cassandra stood to his right, dressed similarly to him. Both wore the crest of Sun and Sword. Although, based on what Leitha said, Jacob would soon add his own markings to that crest.

Wizard and Wind.

It sounds like a ride at a carnival.
Jacob’s good humor seemed to have been restored. He kept one arm firmly around Cassandra. The death of the Queen left a power vacuum amongst the Fae, but none rushed to fill it.

Yet, old man, yet. Give them time to sleep on it and we’re going to be up to our ears in contenders.

Unfortunately, Jacob was right. He looked away from the flames licking up the wood to consume the Queen’s remains and smiled at Cassandra. Her troubled expression revealed her divided heart. She and the Queen weren’t close, but she was the last living member of that family line, a line she had at one time wanted to understand more about.

His gaze descended to her swollen belly. The robe draped it perfectly. The “baby bump,” as she called it, was not large, but it pronounced fertility to the world and more than one well-wisher came up to touch her stomach, seeking that blessing for themselves.

Jacob hated it, glaring at every single one with such ferocity that they truly must wish fertility to dare his ire. Helcyon’s lips twitched. He appreciated the sentiment, but he wasn’t too worried. At least not yet.

Yeah, yeah. You’re biggest badass in town. Chortle about that later. How much more of this farce do we need to attend?
Jacob’s impatience lacked rancor. He merely wanted to retreat somewhere private with their lady and finish the task of sealing the bond.

Yeah, that’s what I want to do.

You do realize that it’s rude to eavesdrop on another’s thoughts.
The grin quirked Helcyon’s mouth wider.

Hey, co-pilot to pilot…you’re loud.
Jacob mouthed the words along with the thoughts, and the laugh escaped before Helcyon could swallow it.

Cassandra frowned, her gaze flicking back and forth between them. “At some point, you’re both going to let me in on this newfound brotherhood, yes?”

“Nope.” Jacob tapped a finger to the end of her nose, pausing only to scowl at the green-skinned goblin that shuffled up and gazed at Cassandra adoringly. “No claws,” he told the critter and looked almost indulgent as Cassandra nodded to it. The goblin stood on its tiptoes and stroked her belly once before darting off with a wild chortle of glee.

“Yeah, that’s getting way old.”

“Be nice, Jacob,” she chided. “Helcyon told us it’s been a long time they’ve gone with no children and they miss them.”

“I know, princess.” He kissed her forehead. “I just want to get you off your feet and out of the sun.”

They all three squinted upward. “It’s certainly a lot brighter, now.” But she didn’t sound like she minded.